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Tig. My thirst of vengeance shall be sated first.

Enter PHARASMENES and ZENOBIA. Yes, guard him, prince; it makes thy ruin sure ! Phar. At length my Ariana's soft compliance Thy Ariana, too, while fate is busy,

Endears the present bliss, and gives an earnest Shall meet her doom, and leave my road to glory Of joy, to brighten a long train of years. All smooth and level to ambition's wish.

Žen. Alas! fond man expatiates oft in fancy,

Unconscious of the fates, and oft, in thought, Enter ZOPIRON.

Anticipates a bliss he ne'er enjoys. Zop. _'Gainst Rome's ambassador, the king, Phar. Away with gloomy care, for thou art Tigranes,

mine; Suspends his sentence till his further orders. Thou, Ariana ! all our future days The queen commands it, too.

Shall smile with gay, with ever-young desire, Tig. The queen! what queen

?

And not a cloud o'er-cast the bright serene. Zop. The beauteous Ariana ; now your sove- Zen. And does thy penetrating eye pervade reign.

What time has yet in store ? Tig. Has she relented ? is she married to him? Phar. Why dost thou ask? Zop. She is—the scene with various passions Zen. I have been used to grief-release the burned !

Roman, Her tresses all unbound, with faded charms, And give him hence safe conduct to his friends ; Yet lovely even in sorrow, through the ranks

I then shall be at peace. Eager she flew, with shrieks, with outstretched Phar. Beware, beware! arms,

Nor rouse again the pangs, that fire a soul, Invoking every god ! the wondering soldier, Which fiercely doats like mine. With softened sinews, dropt the sword to earth, Zen. Dismiss him hence; And gazed, with mixed emotions, as she passed. Give him his life-it was your marriage vow Prone to the ground, at Pharasmanes' feet He should not suffer- let me see him first; She fell—he raised her soon, and smiled con- Grant me one interview, one little hour;

In that poor space I can crowd all that's left me To the king's tent she pressed with eager speed- Of love, and tenderness, and fond concern, The exulting monarch called his priests around Before we part for everhim,

Phar. Fond concern! And soon, with solemn march and festive song, And love, and tenderness! and shall the Roman In his pavilion sought the blooming bride. Usurp a monarch's due ? that look betrays Tig. This sudden change, Zopiron, this rash The secret workings of a heart estranged! haste,

And shall the man, who dares dispute my love, I like it not.

Shall the slave breathe a moment ? Ilaste, Ti2op. Nor I, Tigranes: doubt,

granes, Suspicion, fear, and wonder, and mistrust, And see immediate execution on him. Rise in each anxious thought.

(Exit TIGRANES Tig. But, didst thou see

Zen. Oh! stay, Tigranes-barbarous man, The ceremony closed ?

recall Zop. I did: at first

The horrid mandateAll pale and trembling Ariana stood:

Phar. By immortal love, Then, more collected, with undaunted step, I see the slave still triumphs in your heart

. She to the altar bore the nuptial cup.

Zen. Oh! spare him, spare him! by the vital There reverent bowed, and hear, ye gods !' she air, said,

By your own promised faith (Kneels to him. • Hear! and record the purpose of soul!' Phar. Since loved by thee, With trembling lips then kissed the sacred vase, His doom is doubly sealed. And, as our country's solemn rites require, Zen. You shall not fly me Drank of the hallowed liquor. From her hand Now tear me, drag me, grovelling in the dust, The king received it, and, with eager joy, Tear off these hands-tear, tear me piece-meal As to his soul he took the nectared draught,

firstWith stedfast eye she viewed him, whilst a smile Phar. Nay, then, since force must do itOf sickly joy gleamed faintly o'er her visage. Tig. Well, she's our queen-the diadem is Zen. Barbarous tyrant ! her's

[She lies stretched on the ground. Zop. How long to wear it, Heaven alone can Phar. I go to see the minion of your heart tell.

Expire in pangs before me-ha! what means

This more than winter's frost that chills my veins! SCENE II.- The back scene draws, and disco- Zen. (Looking up.] That groan revives, and

vers the king's pavilion, with an altar, and fire calls me back to life! blazing on it ; soft music is played, and they Phar. I cannot move-each vital function's come forward.

lost

my

(Shakes her off

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The purple current of my blood is stopt, Zen. Wilt thou forgive his murderer?
I freeze-I burn-Oh! ''tis the stroke of death- Rhad. For thee,

(Falls on the ground. Beset with wrongs, and injured as thou wert, Zen. (Rising.) Yes, tyrant, yes; it is the In every region fame shall clap her wings, stroke of death,

And the recording muse applaud thy virtue. And I inflict it, I have done it all

Zen. If thou forgiv'st me, I am blessed inPhar. Pernicious traitress! thou !

deed ! Zen. My vengeance did it

Now we shall part no more--Megistus, too! Zenobia's vengeance ! 'tis Zenobia strikes ! Thou good old man! Let me embrace theeZenobia executes her justice on thee!

Ha ! Phar. Oh! dire, accurst event! art thou Ze- Meg. The blood forsakes her cheek---her eyes nobia ?

are fixed ! Zen. Yes, thou fell monster, know me for Ze- Zen. Support me-help me--Oh! I die--I nobia !

die

[Falls in MEGistus' arms. Know, the ambassador is Rhadamistus !

Rhad. She faints--her colour dies. Revive, Haste thee, Zopiron, and proclaim him king.

Zenobia !

(Exit Zop. Revive, my love! thy Rhadamistus thus, Phar. May curses light upon thee -Oh! I | Thus calls your fluttering spirit back to life! die !

Zen. It will not be---the toil of life is o'erAnd racks and wheels disjoint me

My Rhadamistus- (Sinks down on the ground. Zen. Writhe in torment,

Rhad. Must I lose thee, then? In fiercer pangs than my dear father knew.

Zen. Oh! the envenomed cup! the marriage But I revenge his death–I dashed the cup

rites With precious poison !-(A flourish of trumpets.] Required that I should drink it first myself--ha! now, tyrant, wake,

There was no other way--I did it freely And hear those sounds-my Rhadamistus reigns! | To save thy life---to save thee for my child.Phar. What, and no help! it is too late the Rhad. Art thou a victim for a wretch like me? fates,

Is there no antidote to stop the course The fiends surround me—more than Ætna's fires Of this vile poison ? Burn in my veins---yet Heaven--no--'tis in vain--- Zen. None-it rages now I cannot rise-my crimes--my ten-fold crimes-- It rages through my veins- -my eyes grow They pull me! oh!

(Dies.

dimzen. There fled the guilty spirit !

They are lost in darkness-oh! I cannot see Shade of my father, view your daughter now!

theeBehold her struggling in a righteous cause! Where art thou, Rhadamistus? must I breathe Behold her conquering in the tyrant's camp! Longer in life, and never see thee more! Behold your murderer levelled in the dust! And are my eyes forbid one dear farewell?

(A second flourish of trumpets. Oh! cruel stars ! must they not fix on thee Rhad. Within the scenes.) Where is Zenobia ? The last expiring glance ! Zen. Rhadamistus, here !

Rhad. Relentless powers !

There lies Zenobia ! round that pallid beauty Enter RHADAMISTUS, TERIBAZUS, MEGISTUS, Call your etherial host, each winged virtue; ZOPIRON, &c.

Call every angel down; bid them behold Rhad. Oh ! let me, let me thus--thus pour my That matchless excellence, and then refuse soul,

Soft pity if they can! Thus speak my joy-thus melt within thy arms ! Zen. Megistus, seek my child, Zen. My lord ! my life! my Rhadamistus ! And bring hin to his father-Rhadamistus, come,

Wilt thou protect him? My sweet orphan-babe, Grow to my heart--that bounds and springs to I leave thee, too !--oh !--train him up in virmeet thee.

tueRhad. Once more revived, and snatched again Wilt thou be fond of him—a mother's fondness from death,

My child should meet-oh! raise me, RhadaThus do I see thee? these are speechless joys,

mistusAnd tears alone express them-

Give me thy hand-my little infant-Oh!Zen. Have I saved thee?

[Dies. All-gracious gods ! 'tis rapture in the extreme ! Rhad. Tears, you do well to stop—your Rhad. My sweet deliverer! my all of bliss !

wretched drops Zen. Oh! it is joy too exquisite ! and yet Are unavailing at a sight like this ! Grief will embitter ecstacy like this!

And art thou gone? ah! thus defaced and pale, There lies your father !

Thus do I see thee? is that ghastly form Rhad. All his crimes

All that is left me of thee? give me daggers, Be buried with him! nature will have way, Give me some instant means of death, my And o'er his corse thus sheds the filial tear.

friends, Ter. Oh! that my tears could wash away his That I may throw this load of life away, etains !

And let our hearts be both inurned together!

son

a

Ter. Live, live, my brother, for your infant | Love shall unite us in one peaceful grave.

Meg. Now, old Megistus, gods ! has lived too Let him prevail

long! Rhad. Inhuman that thou art !

Ter. Bring every aid, all medicinal skill, Think you I'll stay imprisoned here in life, To call a wretched brother back to life, When there-behold her-how she smiles in | And give each lenient balm to woes like his. death !

From thee, ambition, what misfortunes flow, When there that form- -think ye I'll linger To thee, what varied ills weak mortals owe! here?

'Twas this for years laid desolate the land, Dead, dead, Zenobia! still I have thee thus- And armed against a son the father's hand; You ne'er shall part us- this at least I'll hold, To black despair poor lost Zenobia drove; And cling for ever to these pale, pale charms; The hapless victim of disastrous love! Here breathe my last, and, faithful still in death,

(E.reunt omnes.

EPILOGUE.

BY GARRICK.--SPOKEN BY MRS ABINGTON.

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(She peeps through the curtain. Hey! Presto pass !-all topsey turvy see, How do you all, good folks ? In tears for certain, For Ho, ho, ho! is changed for He, he, he ! I'll only take a ' peep behind the curtain.' We own the fault, but 'tis a fault in vogue, You're all so full of tragedy and sadness, 'Tis theirs who call and bawl for- Epilogue ! For me to come among ye, would be madness : Ob, shame upon you---for the time to come, This is no time for giggling--when you've leisure, Know better and go miserable home. Call out for me, and I'll attend your pleasure ; What says our comic goddess ?-with reproaches As soldiers hurry at the beat of drum,

She vows her sister Tragedy encroaches! Beat but your hands, that instant I will come. And, spite of all her virtue and ambition,

[She enters upon their clapping. Is known to have an am'rous disposition : This is so good to call me out so soon!

For in · False Delicacy' wond'rous sly, The Comic Muse by me intreats a boon; Join'd with a certain Irishman-0 fye! She calls for Pritchard, her first maid of honour, She made you, when you ought to laugh, And begg’d of her to take the task upon ber;

cryBut she-l'm sure you'll all be sorry for't, Her sister's smiles with tears she sought Resigns her place, and soon retires from court :

smother, To bear this loss we courtiers make a shift, Rais'd such a tragi-comic kind of pother, When good folks leave us, worse may have a lift. You laugh'd with one eye, while you cried with The Comic Muse, whose every smile is grace,

t'other. And her stage sister, with her tragic face, What can be done? -Sad work behind the Have had a quarrel-each has writ a case ;

seenes! And on their friends assembled now I wait, There comic females scold with tragie queens. To give you of their difference a true state. Each party different ways the foe assails, Melpomene complains, when she appears, These shake their daggers, those prepare their For five good acts, in all her pomp of tears,

nails. To raise your souls, and with their raptures wing 'Tis you alone must calm these dire mishaps,

Or we shall still continue pulling caps. Nay, wet your handkerchiefs, that you may wring What is your will? I read it in your faces, 'em,

That all hereafter take their proper places, Some flippant hussey, like myself, comes in, Shake hands, and kiss, and friends, and burn Crack goes her fan, and, with a giggling grin,

their cases.

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'em,

THE

GRECIAN DAUGHTER.

BY

MURPHY.

PROLOGUE.

}

(Peeping in at the Stage Door. In debt, in love, dependent, or quite free;

A newspaper does wonders! none can be Hip! music! music!-Have you more to play ? Ugly, or handsome, well, or ill in bed ; Somewhat I'd offer-stop your catgut, pray; Single, or married, or alive, or dead, Will you permit, and not pronounce me rude, But we give life, death, virtue, vice, with ease; A bookseller one moment to intrude?

In short, a newspaper does what we please. My name is Foolscap :-all my trouble's past, There jealous authors at each other bark; Fortune hath given me a rare helping cast. Till truth leaves not one glimpse, no, not To all my toils a wife hath put a stop :

one spark; A devil first; but now I keep a shop.

But lies meet lies, and jostle in the dark. My master died, poor man ! he's out of print ! Our bard within has often felt the dart His widow, she had eyes, and took my hint. Sent from our quiver, levelled at his heart. A prey to grief she could not bear to be, I've press'd him, ere he plays this desperate game, And so turn'd over a new leaf with me.

To answer all, and vindicate his name. I drive a trade; have authors in my pay, But he, convinc'd that all but truth must die, Men of all work, per week, per sheet, per day. Leaves to its own mortality the lie. Trav'llers, who not one foreign country know, Would any know while parties fight pell mell, And past'ral poets in the sound of Bow; How he employs his pen ?-his play will tell. Translators, from the Greek they never read; To that he trusts; that he submits to you, Cantabs and Sophs, in Covent-Garden bred ; Aim'd at your tenderost feelings; moral, new. Historians, who can't write, who only take The scenes, he hopes, will draw the heart-felt Scissars and paste; cut, vamp; a book they make.

tear; I've treated for this play; can buy it too, Scenes that come home to every bosom here. If I could learn what you intend to do.

If this will do, I'll run and buy it straight; If, for nine nights, you'll hear this tragic stuff; Stay, let me see; I think I'd better wait: I have a newspaper, and there can putt: Yes, I'll lie snug, till you have fix'd its fate,

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SCENE J.

To hurl ambition from a throne usurped,

And bid all Sicily resume her rights.
Enter MELANTHON and PHILOTAS.

Phil. Thou wert a statesman once, Melanthon ; Melan. Yet, a moment; hear, Philotas, hear me.

now, Phil. No more; it must not be.

Grown dim with age, thy eye pervades no more Melan. Obdurate man !

The deep-laid schemes which Dionysius plans.
Thus wilt thou spurn me, when a king distressed, Know then, a fleet from Carthage even now
A good, a virtuous, venerable king,

Stems the rough billow; and, ere yonder sun,
The father of his people, from a throne, That, now declining, seeks the western wave,
Which long, with every virtue he adorned, Shall to the shades of night resign the world,
Torn by a ruffian, by a tyrant's hand,

Thou'lt see the Punic sails in yonder bay, Groans in captivity? In his own palace

Whose waters wash the walls of Syracuse. Lives a sequestered prisoner? oh! Philotas, Melun. Art thou a stranger to Timoleon's If thou hast not renounced humanity,

name? Let me behold my sovereign; once again Intent to plan, and circumspect to see Admit me to his presence ; let me see

All possible events, he rushes on My royal master.

Resistless in his course! Your boasted master Phil. Urge thy 'suit no further ;

Scarce stands at bay; each hour the strong blockThy words are fruitless; Dionysius' orders

ade Forbid access; he is our sovereign now; Hems him in closer, and, ere long, thou'lt view 'Tis his to give the law, mine to obey.

Oppression's iron rod to fragments shivered! Melan. Thou can’st not mean it: his to give | The good Evander then, the law !

Phil. Alas! Evander Detested spoiler !-his! a vile usurper ! Will ne'er behold the golden time you look for! Have we forgot the elder Dionysius,

Melan. How! not behold it! Say, Pbilotas, Surnamed the tyrant? To Sicilia's throne

speak; The monster waded through whole seas of blood. Has the fell tyrant, have his felon murderersSore groaned the land beneath his iron rod, Phil. As yet, my friend, Evander lives. Till, roused at length, Evander came from Greece,

Melan. And yet, Like Freedom's genius came, and sent the tyrant, Thy dark half-hinted purpose-lead me to him; Stripped of the crown, and to his humble rank If thou hast murdered himOnce more reduced, to roam, for vile subsistence, Phil. By Heaven, he lives ! A wandering sophist through the realms of Greece. Melan. Then bless me with one tender interPhil. Melanthon, yes: full clearly I remember

view! The splendid day, when all rejoicing Sicily Thrice has the sun gone down, since last these Hailed her deliverer.

eyes Melan. Shall the tyrant's son

Have seen the good old king; say, why is this? Deduce a title from the father's guilt?

Wherefore debarred his presence? Thee, Philotas, Philotas, thou wert once the friend of goodness ; The troops obey, that guard the royal prisoner;

Thou art a Greek; fair Corinth gave thee birth; Each avenue to thee is open; thou
I marked thy growing youth: I need not tell, Can’st grant admittance ; let me, let me see him!
With what an equal sway Evander reigned, Phil. Entreat no more; the soul of Dionysius
How just, how upright, generous, and good ! Is ever wakeful; rent with all the pangs
From every region bards and sages came; That wait on conscious guilt.
Whate'er of science Egypt stored,

Metan. But when dun night-
All that the east had treasured, all that Greece Phil. Alas! it cannot be: but mark my words.
Of moral wisdom tanght, and Plato's voice, Let Greece urge on her general assault.
Was heard in Sicily. Shall Dionysius

Dispatch some friend, who may o'erleap the Extinguish every virtue from the land,

walls, Bow to his yoke the necks of freeborn men, And tell Timoleon, the good old Evander And here perpetuate a tyrant's reign?

Has lived three days, by Dionysius' order, Phil. Whate'er his right, to him, in Syracuse, Locked up from every sustenance of nature, All bend the knee; his the supreme dominion, And life, now wearied out, almost expires. And death and torment wait his sovereign nod. Metun. If any spark of virtue dwells within Melan. But soon that power shall cease : be

thee, hold his walls

Lead me, Philotas, lead me to his prison. Now close encircled by the Grecian bands ; Phil. The tyrant's jealous care hath moved Timoleon leads them on; indignant Corinth

him thence. Sends her avenger forth, arrayed in terror, Melan. Ha! moved him, say'st thou?

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